Wet: Part 2 (29 page)

“Tom?” Paul leaned over her to see her face. “Who’s
Tom
?”

“Time of month.”

“Oh.” He felt stupid. He’d heard it called many things, but never that. He relaxed, no longer feeling a neanderthalic desire to kick some pud’s ass, but then his guilt doubled as his thoughts reverted back to the problem at hand. He sensed something deeper in her mood than just illness and hormones. It scared him. “Please. Let me take you to a doctor.”

“Why?” Once again, her tone suggested she thought he’d come up with the stupidest idea ever. “It’s a period. And you’ve been on your computer researching what’s wrong with me. You said it was probably Gastroenteritis, a virus. They can’t do anything for it except tell me to stay hydrated and wait it out. You’re always pushing water on me.” She cast an annoyed look his way. “It’s not possible to get dehydrated with you around.”

Again, the way she ground out the words—he sighed. His insides churned with turmoil.

“I know, but I’m not a doctor and the Internet’s not a doctor either. If you’re still sick on the tenth day, I’m throwing you over my shoulder and taking you to Texas. You
will
see a real doctor—I promise you that.”

“I was starting to feel better—until Tom showed up for a visit.”

He held her, the only thing he could think to do. The relief he felt about her period vanished with the nagging thought it could have been more than just a virus—might be more than just cramps and a period. He didn’t want to think of the possible ramifications. If he did, he’d feel even worse. Damn that night. Damn getting that drunk with Rhees around, and damn letting Rhees get that drunk—with
him
around.

He caressed her arm and kissed her cheek a few times. He thought of a few things he could say to make her feel better, but he couldn’t bring himself to say any of them.
I’m sorry—I promise we’ll never let anything like this happen again—we
will
let this happen again, someday.
It all caught in his throat, like a knot making him feel like he would choke.

The words,
I love you,
came to mind. He couldn’t breathe. Did he? The idea had been stalking him since Taylor had made that redonkulous comment about him being in love with Rhees. Panic threatened to strangle him as his chest constricted, brutally and relentlessly. While part of him wanted to run, all he could manage was to close the small gap between them, kissing her on the cheek, over and over. It didn’t make sense.

“Paul?” she asked. “What about your rules? You’re a stickler for your rules, but you’re being pretty snuggly right now.”

“Nightmare snuggles are permitted, remember?”

“But I didn’t have a nightmare.”

“I did.”

“Don’t.” She laughed a quick laugh. She reached back and caressed the side of his face and he leaned into her touch. “I know you’re internalizing a whole lot of guilt right now. Please don’t.”

He shook his head. He couldn’t speak. He buried his face in her hair, burrowing through it to kiss her behind the ear.

“It was too much pressure anyway.”

He pulled back with concern, wondering what she meant.

“I mean, I know you’re always telling me I’m a good person and all, but the strain of being a virgin mother . . . I don’t think I could have lived up to that.” She laughed, a little too forced, confirming his suspicions—
God! She wants a baby.

He squeezed his eyes shut, dumbfounded and scared to death, but once again, despite her misery and the ache of her letdown, she still tried to help
him
feel better.

oOo

Paul wished he could have convinced her to stay in bed, but she wouldn’t have it. They stepped onto the porch, ready to head to the shop. Paul watched as Rhees walked slowly toward the stairs, rubbing her stomach in a soothing motion.

“Hey, come here,” he called.

She turned back a few steps to see what he wanted, and he surprised her by lifting her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around him. He gazed longingly into her eyes, but still had no words, so he just kissed her, very tenderly.

“What’s that about?”

“We’re not in the bedroom anymore.” He shrugged.

“But we’re not exactly in public either.”

“Close enough.” He carried her down to the street where he’d arranged for Ignacio to be waiting for them.

oOo

Rhees slept on Paul’s couch, but woke when he tapped on the door and walked in.

“You didn’t lock the door,” he scolded.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m here on your couch because I’m sick. You come and check on me every thirty minutes. If I have to get up to unlock the door every time you show up, I’ll never get any rest.”

He looked down, embarrassed she was right. He pulled the hand he held behind his back, around to the front. He had flowers, not roses of any color to imply any kind of meaning, just very cheerfully pretty purple and orange flowers in a lime green vase, her three favorite colors. He set the vase on the coffee table and glanced between her and his gift, waiting. He’d been acting so nervous all day. She smiled her approval and watched the tension drain from his shoulders.

“Beautiful,” she whispered, gazing at him. “The flowers are beautiful too.”

He actually almost blushed. He went to the kitchen and busied himself with something, moving and banging things around, more than it seemed necessary to Rhees, but she smiled, wondering what he was up to.

It only took him a few minutes, but she thought it the most time he’d ever spent in a kitchen without her. He finally walked back to the living room with a small bowl and held it over her.

“Just what the doctor ordered. A Rhees’ peanut butter cup.” They both smirked at his play on words.

She sat up and took the cup, curiously. It held a large dollop of peanut butter with chunks of dark Italian chocolate protruding from the creaminess of her coveted nectar, all in a small cup.

“I read once that chocolate is proven to alleviate women’s menstrual-related symptoms.”

She smiled at his awkward attempt of an explanation for the sweet gesture. He sat next to her and waited for her to try it.

“Share with me,” she said.

“Nope. The doctor prescribed that. You’re not supposed to share prescriptive medications.”

She giggled. “If I’d known I’d get this kind of treatment, I wouldn’t have tried so hard to hide my cramps all this time.”

“Yeah! You don’t need to be so freaking tough all the time. You can lean on your friends.”

“I’ve never had friends to lean on.”

“Maybe if you’d lean once in a while, you’d find that you do. You have to give people a chance to step up.”

“Thank you for stepping up, Paul,” she whispered, suddenly overcome with gratitude.

He looked off with a frown on his face. He rolled his gaze back to her and tried to smile. “I just opened the last jar of the peanut butter we imported from Utah. We’re going to have to tap in to some smuggling network somewhere if we want more.”

“Do it then!” She feigned a gasp of horror. “I could sell my body if we need more cash—wait! You’re prettier than I am. You’ll have to be the one to sacrifice yourself.” She giggled again.

“You did nawt just call me pretty.” He cocked his head and cautioned her with his eyes.

“Only in the name of peanut butter.” She did all she could, but lost the battle to maintain a serious face.

“I hate being called pretty, but I’ll let it slide, this time, and only for you—not the peanut butter.”

He took a piece of the chocolate, swirled it around the cup to make sure it scooped up as much peanut butter as possible, and held it to her mouth. She opened up with a waiting tongue, watching his eyes. He swooped in and flicked her tongue with his a couple of times and finished with a soft, but passionate, kiss.

“Sorry. That’s not what you expected, is it?” He bit his lower lip and scrunched his nose to accentuate his apology. He looked so cute.

“Even better,” she said and opened her mouth again. He placed the chocolate drenched with peanut butter on her tongue. She closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure.

“Shhiiit
.”

Chapter 24

B
y the eighth day, Rhees had recovered enough for their routines to get back to normal, but with a little awkwardness. The couple acted cool with each other at times, warmer than usual at other times. They were each insecure about their feelings for one another, but neither of them was brave enough to broach the subject.

“What’s going on with you two?” Claire and Rhees were in the office. “Is everything all right?”

“Yep.” Rhees fidgeted and seemed to be trying to look absorbed in her work on the computer. She finally sighed. “I don’t know where we stand anymore. It’s like we’ve hit a brick wall. When the river stops running, the water grows stagnant.” She started to blubber. “I’m worried we’re not running anymore.”

“Oh, Rhees.” Claire put her arm around her. It embarrassed Claire to ask. “Are you two sleeping together yet? I mean, you’re so . . . lovey-dovey. I haven’t been able to help but speculate.”

“No.” Rhees wiped her eyes and grabbed a tissue. “But . . .” She hesitated to admit it. “Please don’t tell him, but—”

“I won’t. You know I like you so much better than I like him.” Claire smiled.

Rhees laughed. “Claire, I want to.”

Claire’s eyes grew bigger. “Well, why aren’t you then?”

Rhees gave her a bug-eyed look. “He won’t!”

Claire tossed her head back and laughed, a little too emphatically.

“It’s true,” Rhees sobbed. “I’ve been trying to tell him I want to move forward since my birthday, but he refuses.”

“No bloody way! Paul would—that doesn’t sound like the Paul I know. Are you sure you’ve made your intentions clear? I mean, look who we’re talking about here. All you have to do is have a vagina.”

Rhees’ eyes filled again. “I don’t know. I don’t know what the heck I’m doing wrong. I’ve never done this before. I’ve told him I want to do the things he suggested we do, back when he actually
did
want me.”

“Oh, he still wants you—he actually says, no?” Claire sounded stunned. Rhees just nodded.

“There was one time, in Costa Rica, we both were
very
drunk and apparently
things
happened—not the real thing—we
think
. We can’t even remember what we did or how far it went. But since then, he hardly touches me when we’re alone, and then he goes
crazy
on me when we’re not alone. I’m so confused. He gets me all—oh, my gosh! Claire! I’ve never had these feelings before, or these
thoughts
.”

Claire laughed again. “It is so strange to finally see you acting
human
in that regard, but—” Claire stifled another laugh. “It’s not funny. I know it’s not funny. Have you talked about this with him? Surely you’re not making yourself clear.”

“I don’t know—obviously
not
. Paul and his stupid promises,” Rhees mumbled, and then she rolled her eyes at Claire. “They’re not stupid, they’re wonderful, and he’s wonderful, but in this case—every time I try to bring it up, he says, ‘No’, like, end of discussion.”

“Maybe you should just get him pissed, or, as you Americans say, drunk. Get him piss-drunk again.” Claire raised her eyebrows with a devious smile.

“Not going to happen. Since Costa Rica, he won’t drink more than a glass of wine or one or two beers.”

“Hmm.” Claire looked really shocked. “Maybe you need to be cheekier.”

Rhees didn’t understand.

“Bolder. Brazen.”

“How do I do that?”

Claire shrugged. “Remember how you said it happened the night Dobbs socked him?” Claire grinned. “Something about, ‘Even Christian wouldn’t have been able to resist’.”

“That’s easier said than done. I’m afraid I was all talk, no knowledge, or experience—or
confidence,
to back it up.”

“Believe me. It’s not that hard to seduce a man, any man, let alone Paul . . . until you’ve been married a while.” Claire scowled, but then snapped out of her funk. “We need a plan. Paul won’t know what hit him.”

“I don’t want to hit him. I just want to show him how I feel about him.”

oOo

The boat was well on its way toward the intended dive site, and Paul carefully observed as Regina and Tracy analyzed their tanks for their first dives on nitrox
. He’d gone over it with them before, when they’d finished the bookwork for the course, but he wanted to see them use the analyzer one more time before they dived with enriched air. While air is usually twenty-one percent oxygen, nitrox tanks are mixed differently, more oxygen and less nitrogen, allowing longer bottom times with less risk of decompression sickness, otherwise called the bends.

Paul hadn’t noticed the boat swing wide, close to Duna Caye, and his heart thumped hard against his chest when he heard the scream.

“Mon overboard!” Randy called.

Paul panicked even more when he realized he’d recognized the scream. Rhees had fallen off the boat and he scrambled, yelling orders, and preparing himself for a rescue as he scanned the water, looking for her. It only took him a second to spot her, and he relaxed. She watched him, a big smile on her face, while casually making her way toward the small island, wearing her mask, snorkel, and fins.

He realized she had something in mind, and now he understood why she’d asked him to schedule an afternoon dive to the northeast end of the island that day. She so rarely asked him to do her any favors—he didn’t know why—he didn’t think he could refuse her anything she really wanted.

He dived, like a hero, into the water without hesitation or taking the time to put on any gear. He swam toward her, effortlessly, and she, when she saw him coming, pretended to be unconscious, but with her snorkel in her mouth. Such a pathetic swimmer, she couldn’t hold her breath for more than thirty seconds.

She’s so dang cute.
A silly grin masked his face as he made his way to her.

Paul pulled her to shore, a little more like a man swimming with his girlfriend than rescuing a drowning victim. He lifted Rhees’ listless body from the water and carried her to the waiting blanket he noticed as soon as they hit the beach.

He grinned, wondering how she’d managed to pull this off without his knowledge. The boat headed off toward the intended dive site, leaving them alone. Apparently, one or more people at the shop were confused as to where their loyalty should be, but he didn’t mind, and he didn’t blame anyone. People who knew Rhees well enough simply seemed to slip naturally into nurturing or protective roles.

He watched for a second, wondering how far she expected him to take it since it wasn’t really a training exercise. He pretended to check her breathing, and she held her breath.

“Oh no, the victim’s not breathing. I’d better try mouth-to-mouth.” He grinned and leaned over her. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” He grazed her mouth softly with his teeth.

Her arms snaked around his neck, and she pulled him to her, kissing him back. He slipped a hand around her waist, the other into her hair and he kissed her hard, with more enthusiasm than usual.

“Mm . . .” Paul said—if you could call that saying something—it spoke plenty to Rhees, and she gasped, afraid the fear her nerves imposed could derail her desires. She had plenty of concerns, but she really wanted this. She concentrated on the way she loved how he touched her, the way he tasted, how he made her feel, in her heart—and her
body
. She’d never thought about a man, any man, the way she’d been thinking of Paul. She wanted this. She wanted him.

He paused for a half a second, looking uncertain, but she pulled him back to her lips, persuading his mouth with her tongue. She didn’t want to delicately tease him the way he’d been kissing her since she’d complained about being assaulted with his tongue. She wanted to be assaulted.

She wore her new coral bikini, no camisole, and the skin-to-skin, belly-to-belly, contact lured Paul, beckoning him to that sweet paradise that had always swept him away. He returned her signal by tackling her mouth with a vengeance. She boldly countered with her hips, twisting them to meet him square on, a move that made him forget who he was with and yet remember all too well—the pent up energy, emotion, and desire since the zip line, the night in the hotel room, five months of abstinence in spite of sleeping next to the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. He shifted, and she landed on top of him in one quick move. He held her to him as close as he could get her.

She didn’t let up, taking as much as he wanted to give as his hands made their way down. He squeezed her butt with both hands, drawing her apart at the seam. He growled, imagining what he could do with that. His finger skimmed along the gap, over her swimsuit, and he hissed through clenched teeth.

His fingers effortlessly found their way inside her suit,
sliding
along—

Rhees wouldn’t have thought it humanly possible for him to be under her, in her arms one second, doing unspeakable things to her, and a split second later, be twenty feet away, pacing and cursing aloud, throwing an ugly tantrum. It was all a blur—and a stab to her heart.

“I. Am. So. Sorry!” He finally stopped long enough to speak to her instead of swearing at the sand beneath his feet. He looked down again and scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

“Paul,” she called, but he didn’t listen, too distraught and busy cursing himself.

“I can’t remember what we did that night, but
He
does and now he wants more. I promise, I haven’t been drinking, but—
He’s
out of control. I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“Paul, listen.” Rhees sat up on her knees. “Will you please stop freaking out and listen to me?” She scolded him to snap him out of his own world of misery. It got his attention. “Sit! We need to talk.” She patted the blanket next to her.

“I can’t.”

“Get over here!”

He made the distance back to her and sat, unenthusiastically, a few feet away so they wouldn’t be touching. She rolled her eyes.

“Why do you think we’re here?” She swept her hand, gesturing that she meant the caye. “All alone?”

He shook his head, watching her.

“Instead of trying to pretend like there is no elephant in the room, how about we just invite it to stay? I’ve been thinking, a lot, about that night and . . . Paul, I don’t think it was just ‘
He
’.”

“He?”

She blushed. “You always call your penis,
He
.”

“Oh.” Paul looked down, embarrassed. “Yeah.”

“Maybe it’s time—maybe we’re just ready. Maybe the other night was simply a natural progression, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I think we should go with it and see what happens.”

“I can’t believe you just said that.” Paul tried not to laugh, but it wasn’t easy. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say it? But now that you have, it doesn’t feel right. Dani Girl . . . I appreciate the gesture, but it’s not right.”

“I think it is. That morning—when you said we didn’t. I felt so disappointed. I wished we had.”

“Because you would have been happy to have it ‘over with’ while you were too drunk to care.” He sighed loudly and fell on his back.

She followed his example. After a minute, he rolled onto his side and rested his head on his outstretched arm, watching her. Again, she did what he did, and they faced each other. He smiled warmly as he watched her for another minute.

“We still have your second twenty-ninth birthday, remember?” He forced a smile, wanting to lighten the mood. “You said once that your favorite thing about Christmas was the anticipation, that you didn’t understand why some people sneak around, secretly opening their presents. You think the waiting is what makes it special. Let’s just enjoy the anticipation.”

She thought it sweet he remembered a conversation they’d had so long ago. “This isn’t the same.
I
like the anticipation. You, on the other hand, said it drove you crazy. You were one of those people. You were the one who sneaked around, secretly opening your presents because you couldn’t wait.”

He looked guilty.

“I want to be the present. I’m offering myself, telling you it’s okay to open me early.” He burst out laughing, so she did too.

“Wow.” He laughed a few more seconds but slowly shifted to a more serious mood. “Aw, Dani Girl.” He scrunched up his beautiful face and closed his eyes. He worked his mouth a little. “You’re not ready.”

She didn’t want to be offended, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “Unless you’re psychic or something, you can’t possibly know that.”

He stroked the side of her face, trying to bring her back. It didn’t work, so he leaned over her, trying to make her look at him, the concern unmistakable in his expression.

“Not too long ago, you completely lost it, just because Taylor wanted to give you a hug.”

“I’m not trying to convince
Taylor
to make love to me!” She tried to laugh to hide the sting of what felt like rejection. “I haven’t
lost it
on you for months.”

The truth of it made him look worried and he rolled onto his back to look up at the sky.

“Geeminy! You really aren’t interested, are you?” She sat up and scooted away so her back was to him, purposely putting a little space between them.

Paul raised the fingers he’d had on her to his nose and breathed it in, savoring the lingering scent.

“You’re closer than you were last time.” He shook his head to clear his wayward thoughts. “
Gawd,
girl! I
know
you’re closer than you were that night on the deck—but I can’t. I
could
, easily. I just don’t want to—no. I
wawnt
to, I just . . .
Gawd
, I don’t know what the hell I’m trying to say.”

He’d thought about having her, dreamed of it, almost obsessively at times. But the stronger his feelings for her grew, the more he didn’t really want her to lower her standards for him. The thought of her being with him didn’t sound right, sounded dirty, dirtier than the way he’d ever thought of sex before. 

He wasn’t worthy of her. She was so pure—he was anything but. And then there were the fantasies that stopped cold with the thought of her being repulsed, pushing him away, screaming for him to stop. He didn’t know if he could handle that. Being rejected by her would . . .
hurt
. More than he cared to admit. 

Finally, he feared losing control. He thought himself an animal. She’d said she wanted him before but changed her mind. Luckily, he’d gone into it expecting to stop, but he couldn’t guarantee he could do that every time—
again
. Not now, not with the way he felt for her. If he reached the point of no return, but she wanted to return.